


Cravings

by brainofck



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Kid Fic, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-22 04:49:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/605990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brainofck/pseuds/brainofck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Long ago, like, FIVE YEARS AGO, Green_Grrl suggest I write a long m-preg baby-fic kid-fic.  I wrote bits and pieces over time, but never really got it off the ground.  This is a jumble of ideas I'm setting free.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cravings

Image credits to the Department of the Air Force, MGM studios, RDA, and 

 

Jack stepped through the Gate from P3X-459, and happily saluted his general, waiting for him at the bottom of the ramp.

"It's the Furlings, sir! And they like me! And they want to play!"

The debrief was raucous, as only an SG-1 debrief could be. Sam was gushing about techno-wonders. Jack was actively fantasizing about the weapons that looked to be on the agenda. And Daniel was waxing rhapsodic about what hundreds of years of scientific advance could do to a culture.

"I mean, we've seen the Asgard as one extreme, but the Furlings are something totally different. It's unbelievable! They've completely bypassed all the limitations on reproduction that we take for granted and they have restructured their entire concept of family to accommodate that. If two males are in love, they get married and have babies! Though the most common arrangement seems to be the Triad, with two husbands and a wife. They consider the implantation of the artificial womb to be minor surgery, and pregnant males are as common as pregnant females! It's, it's..."

"Unbelievable?" supplied General Hammond helpfully.

"They take the X chromosomes from the 'mother's' sperm, and implant it in genetically inert egg cells, and the fertilization and pregnancy just proceed in the usual human way, but inside the male. Unbelievable. I can think of about thirty papers I'd like to write about the culture, the family structures, the medical aspects, the psychosocial impacts on the individual, the repercussions on a female's place in society..."

"I get the picture, Dr. Jackson," said the general, cutting him off in the middle of his near delirious rambling. "I think it's safe to assume that Homeworld Security is going to accept the Furlings gracious invitation to send a civilian diplomatic party." He raised his hand to forestall Daniel's renewed tirade, "Dr. Jackson, I assure you that SG-1 will escort any diplomatic team that goes through the gate."

* * *

"I don't think it's going well at all," sighed Minister Keel, settling beside Jack on the bench outside the meeting hall and helping himself to half of Jack's sandwich.

The Furlings were divided about mixing into a war with the goa'uld. They were peaceful, and their corner of the galaxy was well protected and hidden and it was really none of their concern. No one had noticed them in a couple of thousand years, and that was the way they liked it.

But the Furlings also seemed to like their new human friends. They were as taken by them, and particularly by Jack, as the Asgard had been.

So there was a division in the ranks. Keel and his cohort supported permanent diplomatic relations with the Tauri and unlimited trade, while others supported complete cessation of ties.

Jack had begun to sour on the whole process. He knew their luck with these things and it always worked out badly for them. 

"That's a shame," he said to the Minister. He glanced sidelong at the man's swollen belly. He was about five months along. "I was personally hoping that we might get a permanent relationship going."

Keel grimaced.

"Be careful what you wish for, Colonel O'Neill. I've been sick for the past four months."

Then suddenly, Keel grinned at him, an experience Jack still found disconcerting. Furlings being not cute and fuzzy little creatures, but seven-foot furry hulking behemoths, with long wolf-like muzzles and toothy, fang-filled mouths.

"Colonel, I'll have your treaty signed by the end of today's session," he declared, leaping up and striding back into the building.

* * *

SG-1 and SG-11 were gathered outside the meeting hall as the negotiations broke off for the day. The human diplomatic contingent came out beaming amidst delighted and celebratory Furlings, Keel waddling along in the middle.

The aliens swirled around the SG teams, hugging them boisterously, every single one of them making a special point to embrace Jack, some of them petting his hair like an adored pet. The Furlings liked Jack, but this was more attention from more of the aliens than he had ever gotten before. 

And even more oddly...

"Congratulations, Dr. Jackson!"

"Let me know if there's anything I can do to help!"

"Good luck!"

And most alarmingly, "You've got a beautiful mate, Doctor. Be sure to get the most from him before his belly swells too big."

Daniel blushed deeply. He had obviously figured out the basics they were talking about. But the look on Ambassador Simpson's face said it all.

"Colonel, a word?"

* * *

"And so, apparently, the Colonel's expressed interested in the technology they use to facilitate male pregnancy was the final factor that tipped the vote. The treaty was approved by a shocking margin." The Ambassador was clearly exasperated, but still pleased.

"Colonel, you should know that no fewer than seven delegates provided me with information on how to contact their fertility specialists, when you're ready."

Jack had never been so humiliated in a debrief in his life. 

When Hammond dismissed them, he practically ran for his office. He couldn't stop himself from trotting the last couple of yards, and dashed through the door, slamming it shut behind him before the administrative staff could catch him with updates on paper work and phone messages and the like. He leaned his forehead against the closed door.

What the hell was he going to say to Daniel?

"So, when were you going to discuss this with me?"

Jack yelped and spun around to find a calm, collected archaeologist lounging in his desk chair.

"I swear to you, Daniel, I thought everything I had said to Keel was in confidence. _And_ I never even mentioned you."

Daniel nodded. His expression clearly said _Aliens. What can you do?_

"When do we go back?" he asked.

"I guess as soon as General Hammond can fit in the leave for both of us," he said. He really didn't know. When he was speaking to Keel, he was really, seriously wondering what it would be like to have a baby, but he didn't really thing it would _happen_ , much less find himself visiting a baby doctor in a matter of days.

"Okay," Daniel agreed. "I can probably clear out the most important projects I'm working on in a couple of days, and shuffle the rest around to staff. I can be ready in… four days? I'll get my request to General Hammond this morning."

Jack stood there, feeling a little lightheaded with how fast it felt like things were progressing.

"Get out of my chair, Daniel. I need to sit down."

Daniel got up and dodged around him and out the door. To do his leave paperwork. To get the leave he needed to help Jack get pregnant. Jack stumbled around his desk and collapsed into the chair. 

Furlings. Giant space guns. Worth it?

He thought about holding a tiny baby – how they smelled like oatmeal cookies when they were sleeping – how they flailed their tiny arms and legs in the air. He thought about how much of that he had missed with Charlie.

Yeah. It would be totally worth it.

* * *

Daniel went with him to the office of the Furling fertility specialist. The hulking alien met them at the door. 

"Come in, come in!" she greeted them enthusiastically.

* * *

"See, it's right here under 'Breastfeeding Myths.' See. 'Myth: You can't breastfeed if you have small breasts...'"

Jack was feeling clammy and ill. He was rummaging through the fridge looking for some sort of quick protein. He grabbed a slice of American cheese and unwrapped it. When he bit it, he looked as he always did, at the imprint of his teeth.

"Daniel," he said as he chewed the rubbery cheese, "this isn't really the time."

"'Reality: In no way does outward appearance affect the production of milk or a mother's ability to dispense it. Breasts and nipples of all shapes and sizes can satisfy a hungry baby. Inverted nipples that don't become erect when stimulated may need some advance preparation...'"

"Daniel! Not the time!" he barked in his best drill sergeant's voice, wondering how many drill sergeants had contemplated killing an annoying life partner over breakfast while fending off morning sickness.

* * *

**From Lisa**

Daniel looked up.

"Jaaack." In that insufferably _reasonable_ voice that told Jack whatever came next was sure to make him snap like a dried out rubber band.

He braced, teeth gritted.

"Just because you don't have the extra fatty tissue doesn't mean you don't have the milk ducts. The baby will eat just fine. Besides, you know perfectly well  
that if you did grow large breasts, you would be completely freaked out."

Daniel being right was _so_ not the point. The cheese crumpled in Jack's fist.

"If you're worried about 'size matters,' you know you have nothing to be ashamed of. In the, uh..." Daniel waved in the vaguely mid-body region "... department you're perfectly adequate."

Crash! Daniel's hopeful, helpful smile disappeared as he dropped to a crouch, arms protecting his head.

Smash!

The entire stack of cereal bowls grabbed from the nearest shelf became crockery splinters littering the ground around Daniel's hunched form, the wall above him pitted and scarred.

Deciding prudence was the better part of survival, Daniel fled as soon as there was a break in the barrage.

Jack sank to the kitchen floor, 30 seconds from a tearful phone call to Sara in which he begged forgiveness for every, _every_ , time he had opened his mouth during her pregnancy with Charlie.

* * *

"I'm not telling you," he said, jaw set, brows lowered.

"C'mon, Jack. It's normal. Pregnant wo -" glare from Jack.

"...People..." he amended. "Pregnant people often have food cravings. It's something to do with vitamin deficiencies or something. I read somewhere that some, uh, people even crave red mud for some reason. The person writing the article surmised a need for additional iron and suggested you eat mud if you want to, just try to get it from an uncontaminated source."

"Sarah never had cravings," Jack replied darkly. 

"So? I know Sarah's pregnancy is the gold standard for you, but every pregnancy is different."

"No kidding?" Sarcasm.

"Look. It can't be that disgusting. Whatever you want, I'll track it down for you. I know every ethnic grocery and supplier in the entire state of Colorado. I guarantee I can get it for you."

Daniel could see Jack gritting his teeth. 

"You know," drawled Daniel, feeling a change of tactics was in order. "I'm more than willing to play dirty to find out what this disgusting craving is that you're having."

Jack eyed him suspiciously.

"I know how much you like that thing that I do... I don't have to do that."

Jack was positively glaring at him now.

"It's an empty threat. You like it as much as I do! I can't see you withholding sexual favors for long. Two can play at that game, you know."

"Yeah, well, considering your sex drive these days, I'll win."

Jack shoved him over and climbed on top of him, weird, strangely arousing double genitalia rubbing wetly against Daniel's belly. Daniel's more and more interested cock, growing to bump against Jack's ass.

"Okay! You win! I'll tell you!" Jack growled, leaning down to bite Daniel's neck, just below the hinge of his jaw. Daniel groaned in appreciation, turning his head and surrendering to the assault.

But he didn't forget.

"Jack," he prodded.

Jack grunted and sat up, staring down at him.

"Fine," he spat. "Ants."

"Ants? You want _ants_?"

"Yes, ants. You've seen them. Very small. Six legs. They come in black and red. I'd prefer red ones, thanks."

"You're craving _ants_?" Daniel repeated in disbelief. "How would you even know what ants taste like so you could crave them?"

Jack rolled his eyes. 

"Standard survival training," he said, as if it were self-apparent. 

Then he got a faraway look.

"God, I can't stop thinking about how they feel squirming around when you crunch down on them," he said, sounding wistful.

"Okay. That is disgusting."

"While you're at it, could you find me some crickets, too? Oh, God, could I go for a handful of crickets..." Jack sighed.

"Jeez! And you've developed an aversion to strawberry Pop Tarts?!" Daniel exclaimed.

* * *

"You know, you shouldn't let my current medical status lull you into a false sense of security," said Jack, rounding the corner from the kitchen, belly first, of course. He appeared to be waving... a pint of ice cream? Daniel squinted over the top of his laptop screen.

"Just because I'm eight and one half months pregnant doesn't mean that I don't now how to kill you seventeen different ways with my bare hands."

"Yeah, but you have to catch me first and you aren't as stealthy as you once were," Daniel retorted with a grin. Though he also decided that caution was the better part of valor, moving back as Jack advanced on him. 

If Jack started yelling, " _You_ did this to me!!!" the situation could get ugly.

"Not as stealthy?!?!" Jack spluttered. "Oh, you will _so_ pay for that one, Jackson. I'll show you stealthy, you little bastard."

He turned on his heel, and stalked (as best he could manage, though he still hadn't gotten the knack of being that front-heavy and his "stalk" contained a large component of "lumber") back to their bedroom, ice cream in hand. 

Jack might be on leave, but Daniel had a mission in the morning and vital texts to translate before they could safely proceed. He sighed and went to the kitchen for more coffee.

* * *

Late, late, late.

He had finished the texts, given the necessary intel to the General, gotten the go ahead for the mission and now they were rushing madly to make the necessary departure window. 

He reached in to his locker and yanked on his hat.

Which was filled with something cold and wet. And lumpy.

Swearing every curse word he could think of in every language he had ever learned, he yanked the boonie off again.

The substance was seeping through his hair and running down his forehead and into his eyes.

His hat was full of half melted ice cream and... were those pretzels?

His gaze fell to the bench by his locker door.

And there was the other half of a pint of Chubby Hubby.

Next to it was a note that said, simply, "Seventeen ways."

* * *

"It's been sore and hard all day. I think something's stuck."

"Did you use the pump, like you were supposed to?"

Jack glared at him.

"I was busy. The whole point of sending the baby off with them was so that I could get some baby-free time."

"Yeah, well, see what that got you. A blocked duct."

Daniel slapped the book in his lap and pointed to the section.

"I find the title, _The Womanly Art of Breastfeeding_ highly offensive," Jack said primly.

"Just nurse the baby!" Daniel said with affectionate exasperation. "She'll fix it all better for you."

Jack settled in on his end of the sofa. The baby was hungry. She latched on and happily started to suck.

And suck. And suck. And nothing changed.

"Nothing's changing," Jack finally grumbled.

"Massage the hard area. I'm going to get you a warm washcloth."

Jack massaged. He took the warm cloth from Daniel, who sat down next to them to pet the baby and tickle her feet and generally distract her. The baby was hungry and not to be distracted and continued to suck away.

Then she gave a sudden little startled head jerk and pulled off the nipple.

And got shot in the eye.

"Whoa!" said Jack.

The baby looked surprised. The nipple continued to spray her, as Jack helped her catch the high pressure stream in her mouth.

Daniel laughed behind his hand.

"You think that's funny, huh?" Jack growled.

"Excuse me," he said politely to the baby, easing her away from his chest and down into his lap. 

Then he took the wayward, still spraying nipple and pointed it at Daniel, where he was sitting next to them on the couch.

And proving that enough experience with enough different small arms creates a fungible skill set, he sprayed Daniel right up his nostril.

* * *

It didn't surprise him that Jack's baby would be the team's baby.

Sam and Teal'c were mesmerized by her.

Daniel was in the kitchen when he heard Teal'c laugh. A genuine, rumbling belly laugh of delight.

He dropped everything and practically ran to see what had happened.

Jack was smiling down fondly at their little girl. She had been wriggling on a soft crocheted afghan on the floor. At the moment she was holding a fencing posture, staring fixedly at her extended fist. 

Teal'c was utterly alight with delight.

"Yeah, I love that," Jack said, grinning. "Charlie used to do that constantly."

"Indeed, O'Neill? You are fortunate to have had two such gifted children."

Jack looked up at his friend in surprise.

"Nah, all babies do that. They think it helps develop hand-eye coordination."

Teal'c shook his head emphatically.

"Jaffa infants to not typically manifest this behavior. When a child does so, one knows one's son will be a great warrior."

Sam snorted. Teal'c bowed his head to her in deference, but did not comment further. Jack made his own fists and began boxing the baby, who gave a pleased squeal. Then Sam started buzzing on the baby's feet again and Jack tickled her neck and Teal'c rumbled that they should not insult the great warrior and scooped her up to stand her on her feet. When she started trying to walk Sam dissolved into coos of delight.

Then there was a very unladylike sound and Jack yelled, "Daniel, it's your turn!"

Daniel left the doorway of the kitchen and took his little girl from Teal'c.

"It's always my turn," he grumped.

But he made sure it was always his turn. For some reason, she loved getting her diaper changed. It always guaranteed her biggest smiles.

As he laid her on the diaper table, she startled. Her legs and arms flew out and she got the expression that said "Oh no! I'm falling!" He wrapped his hands around her torso and said, "I've got you."

Sometimes, after a big startle like that, she would cry a little. But more often, she would get another one of her huge grins. Maybe even laugh.

_Just like her daddy,_ he thought. Not afraid to fly. Daniel thought she was going to be a hellion one day. A little thrill-seeker in the making.

"She's just like you," Jack said in his ear, wrapping his arms around Daniel's waist and peering over his shoulder at their little girl. 

"Hm," Daniel answered, enjoying the gentle touch of Jack's lips against his ear. "Funny, I was just thinking she was like you."

"Nope. You all the way. Laughing in the face of danger. Not afraid to fall."

Daniel stroked her fat little buddha belly and thought about fear of falling and joy in flying.


End file.
